


Not Berry Hungry

by Anonymous



Series: More Than You Can Chew [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Deities, Eating Disorders, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gen, Inflation, Juicing, Magical Punishment, Magical solutions or blessings, Things aren't properly explained ahead of time, This is a punishment, blueberry expansion, blueberry inflation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:00:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27702440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: After praying to the harvest goddess for personal help, and getting no response, Yolanda is furious. She then finds out what sorts of creative punishments such a goddess designs for outbursts in her temple.Pick one food to eat, deal with the effects. Cruel, right? She wishes she could avoid eating the saccharine-sweet blueberry tart.
Series: More Than You Can Chew [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854058
Kudos: 9
Collections: Anonymous





	Not Berry Hungry

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case you missed the tags above, CW: this fic contains mentions of an eating disorder. Specifically, something along the lines of avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder.

Food was the most disgusting thing Yolanda could think of; Slimy, crunchy, or moist, saccharine sweet or rawly bitter, there was something about food which made her stomach turn.

She still ate, of course, and it wasn’t that she wanted to hate food, but the entire experience was wholly unpleasant, which forced her to avoid spending much time doing it. It did not help her body, or her energy levels, she knew, shivering in her cloak.

These were the thoughts Yolanda had as she walked through the main part of town, eyeing the decorations for the harvest festival coming up. People had placed fine flowers woven with leaves and thin branches upon the buildings’ eaves. Several large crops like radishes and gourds had been carved out for food, with the rest shaped into a festive visage for candlelight to shine through.

She clutched her basket of flowers closer to her. Despite her best efforts, she could still feel a hit of a disgusted sneer climb onto her face. 

Her personal problems meant she greatly disliked the festival. It was always, “Oh, eat some more Yolanda,” or “It’s so tasty, you’ll love this,” or even “You’re so thin, aren’t you hungry?” Of course she was hungry! She always was! But hunger didn’t make the horrible feeling of food, sliding down her gullet and squishing into a wet mass in her stomach, go away. No one in town seemed to understand, and fending off the townspeople was an ordeal every year, every time people started celebrating food for a whole week.

Revolting.

Even so, when a solution had been tentatively presented to Yolanda, she had to try it out.

Before her, in the bright golden-orange rays of the afternoon sun, sat a finely built, open air temple. The stone pillars and wooden structures within were all polished, and crops of all different sorts sat on and before an altar, where the symbol of the goddess of harvest stood--a copper radish and golden pear sitting within a silver basket. The air was thick with the scent of dirt and the slight sweetness of rot.

Yolanda steeled herself and walked inside.

After dodging a few of the offerings, and choking at the smell of some particularly ripe apples, she stood a few feet from the altar. Carefully, Yolanda took out her flowers, pretty little chrysanthemums and bright yellow heliopsis. She hoped they would work, because she never grew food plants.

Carefully weaving them together, Yolanda said a prayer followed by an entreaty. She hoped the goddess was listening, because she didn’t know who else would have the ability to help her.

After she was finished, she placed the crown of flowers on top of a nearby bundle of carrot roots, said polite farewells, and went home.

Two days passed and nothing happened.

Yolanda grew more furious with each day, worry eating away at her gut each time it roiled at the sight and smell of food. Not even eating it had become easier. In fact, with all the rich foods the townspeople were now preparing to celebrate such a good harvest, Yolanda could barely walk amongst the buildings, nevermind try to force down some horrid concoction of honey-baked pears.

On the third day, she snapped.

Storming into the temple, rage heating her from the inside, she kicked her way through the piles of offerings until she made it to the altar.

“I’m sick of this,” she seethed, aiming her rage at the symbol of the goddess. “And I’m sick of your so called ‘blessings’ of food. I am tired of feeling as though I am the only one cursed by you, unable to do anything but force myself to live while others sing your praises and apparently get reward with that disgusting food, only to offer it in tribute to you… Do I just not give enough? Huh? Do you ignore me because I don’t grow and offer the things you want? Do you hate me? I haven’t done anything to you.” Yolanda felt wet heat run down her cheeks as she yelled, “Do you even exist?”

With the feeling of heat exploding throughout her body, Yolanda turned and kicked at a pile of offerings, knocking several baskets of apples and pears to the ground.

“Why do I even bother coming here!?”

She let out an incoherent shriek as she turned towards another blurry stack of colorful vegetables and sent them scattering and thumping to the floor.

“No true goddess would do this to someone, and no kind goddess would ignore a plea for help! I _hate_ you!”

And with that final statement, Yolanda picked up a squishy food, feeling the juices running between her fingers as she lobbed it at the sacred symbol of the temple. With her clean hand, she wiped at her eyes, feeling off balance. She wobbled to the side a bit before she planted her feet.

A tingling chill ran up her spine as she suddenly realized the sound of rotten plant flesh hitting metal never happened.

Yolanda looked up with clear, puffy eyes, and startled. She was in a completely different place.

Gone was the open air temple, replaced with a large, intricately carved banquet hall, complete with many candles on the walls and strung from the ceiling, and several large, pine wood tables spread through the room.

Swallowing down the rest of her tears, Yolanda began to cautiously look around. How had she arrived? What was this elaborate place? Why was she here? Questions bounced around her skull as she recovered from her rare show of temper.

The one who walked through the door at the end of the hall would probably answer some of those.

She was tall, taller than a lot of the men in Yolanda’s community, and skin a dusky brown-red found mostly on the people who worked outside during the hours of the strongest sun. The way she walked, with just a hint of swagger, was reminiscent of young bucks prancing around in the spring. But it was the fine, flower covered, delicately embroidered robes which made Yolanda nervous. This was someone of high status.

Licking her lips, Yolanda said in a horse voice, “Who are you? Why have you brought me here?” Which she thought was a reasonable assumption.

The stranger smiled, a small show of teeth more than a placating motion, and said, “I am the goddess of the harvest, the one whose temple you threw your tantrum in.”

Yolanda felt herself pale, heart slowing before suddenly speeding up and jumping in fear. She was going to be punished. It was the only thing which made sense.

Except, hold on. Yolanda’s brows slowly furrowed as she thought things through. She had come to the temple with offerings not a few days ago, prayed for assistance, and gotten nothing. Then she loses her temper for only a few moments and _then_ the goddess finally deigns to show up? Yolanda had been right to be angry all along.

“I see,” Yolanda said coldly. “So that’s the sort of goddess you are.”

The goddess hummed, placing a few fingers to her cheek and tilting her head into them. “You may think what you like. But you should have known the consequences of desecrating a sacred space. You prayed in it earlier.”

“So you did-!” Yolanda’s throat choked up in her anger, the words too big and too heavy to be forced out. The goddess had heard her, and ignored her.

Frustrated, eyes burning again and heart beating like a warm drum, Yolanda marched forward and grasped the lacy cloth adorning the nearest table. Just before she went to pull it, which would bring the candles and terra-cotta plant sculptures with it, the world shifted.

Yolanda stumbled in confusion, flailing as she no longer had a sense of up and down--then her arms were grabbed. As she pulled instinctively to get away, she noticed she was completely restrained, tied up somehow with her arms up and legs bound together, though still on the floor. Despite the world coming back into proper focus, Yolanda could not move. 

She was going to be punished.

The goddess gave a small chuckle. “Well, that was exciting. But I have to explain exactly why you are here, first.”

Yolanda strained against the--ropes? Vines?--restraints holding her, but got nowhere. She settled with a sigh, breathing harshly. She had done more physical exercise than she was used to, acting on her anger and fear as she was.

“Done for now?” The goddess _tsked._ “I supposed I’d better get on with it then. You already know why you’re here, of course. You were completely disrespectful to the kind and generous offerings of the other people in your town. Unthinkingly rude to their hopes and wishes. And of course, I was hurt by your accusations.”

Yolanda scoffed.

“You’re already in enough trouble as it is,” the goddess reprimanded. “Don’t make it worse. Well, when someone is disrespectful, harmful, or otherwise unruly in a temple of mine, I have the right and ability to exact punishment as I see fit. I do try to be fair, of course.”

Yolanda rolled her eyes, but when she focused back before her, she was astonished to find all manner of foods laid out on the long table.

Thick vegetable stews filled the air with salt, greasy meats were accentuated with sticky fruits, and the smell of warm piss notified her about the presence of alcohol. There were so many foods, too many foods. The varied types and smells were nearly overwhelming--Yolanda had to turn her head to the side.

“This is your punishment,” said the goddess. “You must pick one of these foods, eat it, and deal with the effects.”

Yolanda screwed her mouth shut and glared. It was all she could do. Not only was the goddess ignoring her request for help, but now she was making her punishment to- to make fun of her condition?

But no matter how Yolanda waited or sent daggers from her eyes, the goddess seemed infinitely more patient. She did not change her mind. She didn’t say anything at all.

Yolanda’s anger threatened to make her ill, so she pushed it down.

Unwillingly, she swept her eyes across the table, trying to find the least offensive food. Or at least not something which had been dipped or cooked in lard. Eventually, she settled on something which looked baked and not too sweet.

“The blueberry tart,” she muttered.

“Very well,” said the goddess. “Since you are having trouble with eating at the moment, I will assist you.”

At those words, Yolanda saw red. It didn’t matter if the goddess said it because of Yolanda’s problem, which she had prayed about, or because of currently being tied up, either way, Yolanda’s eating problem-- “It’s your fault,” she hissed.

Instead of responding, the goddess swept over with a small tart in hand. Upon closer look, Yolanda was dismayed to find that the blueberries were sitting in their own, thick juices--probably cooked with obscene amounts of sugar. But none of the other things on the table looked any more appealing, so she leaned forward. With careful movements, she took a couple of the blueberries into her mouth and bit down.

Sweet, too sweet, and sticky turning to a sharp tartness, and the blueberries pop and spill yet more juice and-- it was horrible. Yolanda gagged.

“I’m sorry dear. But this is the punishment you chose.”

Yolanda wanted to cry, to rage, to run and hide. Since she couldn’t do any of those things--yet--she swallowed. It felt even worse going down.

For several moments, she would reach forward, grab one or two berries, and desperately try not to taste or touch them while still eating them. It was difficult, impossible even. She wasn’t sure she could take much more, especially since only those few, tiny tastes were sending her stomach roiling. It felt… It felt like it was filling up, actually, which Yolanda thought odd.

She had to start breathing through her mouth, trying to both get the taste out and avoid smelling it even more. At that, the goddess seemed to take pity on her. She moved the tart away and set it back onto the table.

“That’s enough, then. I suppose I didn’t realize just how difficult it would be.”

Yolanda snorted, ready to deliver a sarcastic comeback, but a sudden heaviness to her gut made her stop. She held her breath, thinking she might void her stomach--the worst part of reckless eating. But she did not.

Instead, she looked down, and noticed her stomach was protruding.

_Impossible_ , she thought, _I barely got anything down, and I’ve never been able to get any extra weight._

But there it was, staring her in the face. And… growing bigger? Yolanda was stunned for several moments as she watched the little pudge push out further with each breath. Soon enough she had a solid beer belly without any of the beer, and she began to struggle in earnest.

“What’s happening?” she cried, pulling at the restraints. The movement wiggled her stomach back and forth, and she was surprised to feel subdued sloshing within. Where had all the liquid come from?

Breathing in deep, her stomach pushed out against her tunic, a round dome with no apparent flab; The shape was unnatural. A fleeting, selfish and absurd thought had Yolanda worried for her clothes. Though it turned out not to be so absurd when she felt the strange liquid feeling surge in her breasts. Her two boobs filled quickly and practically bounced forward, going from small handfuls to large, prize-winning melons in only a few seconds. The sound of ripping seams had Yolanda freeze in place. Struggling her clothes off was the last thing she needed.

Unfortunately, her breasts had gotten large enough now that the tops were popping out of her straining collar. And they were blue.

Yolanda’s mind whirled in confusion and disbelief. Blue? Her breasts were as blue as- as the blueberries she ate! The damned goddess was making a fool out of her. As if to punctuate the thought, Yolanda felt a sudden pinch followed by rapid inflation of her ass. It expanded with almost a _whomp_ sound, immediately straining her trousers and lifting her tunic. Then the ropes let go.

Yolanda was too stunned to do more than let her arms fall limp at her sides. Her sides which were far more plush than she recalled and expanded with every second she stood in thought.

A subtle gurgling followed each enlargement--the same sound of a stream of water pouring into a container of it.

As Yolanda touched her sides, unable to comprehend the way her flesh continually pushed out against her, she noticed her hands were the same shade of deep, indigo blue that her breasts were. Was her entire body this way? She was unable to stop her hands from flying to her face. She couldn’t see it herself, but she could feel it, and her cheeks were puffing up too.

“Stop,” she whispered. 

That liquid inside her--could it possibly be blueberry juice?--sloshed in her breasts, her backside, her stomach, and all the way around as her sides and even back pushed out against her clothing, plumping her out. She felt like one of the large barrels in the basement of the tavern, stuffed full of juice, and round, and about ready to burst.

“I already explained,” said the goddess from where she watched several feet away, “you must deal with the consequences of your choice.”

Gritting her teeth, Yolanda took a step forward, intending to tell the goddess what exactly she thought of such actions, but a sudden burst of juice stopped her. Her whole form wobbled as her arms lifted up, stomach, sides, and back bloating in a burst. She had to stop and catch her balance from the quick expansion, and groaned at the weight and stretch beneath her skin. When she looked down, she found she couldn’t see her feet anymore; Only her tunic being slowly stretched around a bulbous blue mound--or two. Even her legs felt strange, like they too were swelling and rubbing against each other, a feeling Yolanda had never had before in her life. 

Any other time, she might have been happier about finally not being so rail thin. But the juice just kept filling her up, burbling sound growing in volume, and soon taking another step seemed downright impossible. All she would do is lose balance and fall on her face.

_Well,_ she contemplated as her tunic was pushed up, revealing her ever expanding blue gut, _maybe not my face._

The swelling was increasing in speed, and Yolanda noticed herself getting taller, in a sense. As her sides expanded out, they also expanded up and down, pressing her feet into the floor and her head up higher towards the ceiling. She thought she might be as tall as an older sapling tree and still growing. 

The full feeling from before was only multiplied, making her breathe out groans as she was forcefully stretched to accommodate all the new liquid filling her up.

In a desperate and pointless bid, she pressed down on her expanding flesh, only making little gurgles as she sloshed the juice inside her without slowing it at all.

A flutter of fear churned within Yolanda, not helped by the constant flow of juice. What if she kept going until she no longer existed? Would she become a large blueberry? Would she burst open once ‘ripe’? Her eyes flicked to the only other person in the room, and her anger melted away as fear swooped into its place.

“Please,” Yolanda begged the goddess. Fear made her words even more muted as they escaped her puffed cheeks.

The goddess only smiled, eyes looking disappointed, or perhaps pitying. It did not help Yolanda stay calm.

She moaned and grunted as her arms were pushed further up. Wiggling her feet told her they were no longer attached to the ground; Instead her tight, wobbly ass had finally fully rounded and sunk down to touch the floor, splitting her trousers in the process. She couldn’t see her belly button anymore. In fact, with her shoulders pressing up around her face, she couldn’t see her breasts either. Since she couldn’t feel them flopping about, she assumed they had expanded with her stomach so much they had practically melded together.

Yolanda tried a scream, but it was muted and short, blocked by layers of juice and skin.

Even moving her arms did nothing. As the juice pushed higher, making her grunt with the thick fullness of it, her body pushed out around her arms until they could no longer bend or move at all. Her hands twitched, but all they could feel was the flesh surrounding them.

Yolanda could only look straight forward, flesh walls stopping just before her eyes. The juice sloshed gently inside her, no longer increasing. She was done. She was a blueberry.

She tried to speak, but found her effort greatly hampered by the way she was inflated and filled. Her lips simply did not have the space for proper enunciation, and her own body made each sound far quieter by blocking them from the air. Though Yolanda thought she did manage a rather impressive scream when she began to rotate forward.

Fortunately, she stopped as soon as she was able to look down and see the floor again. Unfortunately, it was clear the goddess was the one who had rotated her, specifically to talk.

“Feeling alright dear?” she asked. At Yolanda’s screamed sounds, the goddess said, “I suppose I should have expected that. You are looking quite fine though.”

The goddess then poked at Yolanda’s revealed midsection, her squishing making Yolanda grunt in disagreement. She did not want to be touched, much less told that this was a fine way to look. She could barely see any of herself any more, and that surely could not be acceptable. She was certain, considering that she was blue and round as the berries she ate, that she looked horribly ridiculous.

Even so, the goddess moved around, prodding and squeezing various parts of Yolanda’s new body. It felt… not bad. But embarrassing. Yolanda was certain that if she hadn’t currently been blue the heat from her cheeks would make her a deep pink.

“Yes, I think you took to this punishment well. Are you enjoying being so full? I’m genuinely curious. Humans don’t usually get this full, can’t really, without magic, so how are you taking it?”

Did the goddess expect an answer? Not that Yolanda could say anything, but aside from being mortified and slowly trying to push her fears down, she felt alright. Not bad, not in pain, and actually, not uncomfortable. Well, the way the remainder of her clothes stretched over her, creaking at the seams--and in some cases split down them--was unfortunate, but they only occasionally pinched. A benefit of wearing material so willing to stretch, she supposed. She could patch them up herself, if she ever got back to normal.

Yolanda felt heat behind her eyes at the thought, and wiggled her hands in an instinctual attempt to hide her face and brush the moisture away.

The liquid within her rocked back and forth with her motions, making little burbles of sound. Her skin felt settled though, and the feeling of being completely filled was-- was… okay. It was alright. It felt cool, the sounds from the juice were oddly calming, and the constant emptiness she felt from her stomach was gone, replaced with a comforting weight. Yolanda was almost glad she couldn’t speak, because she would never tell this goddess that she didn’t mind the sensations.

She did, after all, mind the helpless situation and immobility.

The goddess hummed to herself, looking Yolanda directly in the eyes, and smiled. It reached her pine green eyes, transforming the cant of her lips into something kind-looking and open.

“Wonderful. I think this went very well.” The goddess moved to Yolanda’s side and placed her hands on her. “But it has been long enough, I think. We shall have to juice you now.”

Yolanda made a questioning sound which changed into a surprised shriek as she began rolling. Luckily, it was like rolling from her stomach to her back, and to her stomach again; her head never hit the floor. Though Yolanda did have to be careful how she looked around, since the movement made her dizzy. She closed her eyes until she came to a stop.

The room she had been rolled to was constructed much the same, only it was smaller in size and held only a few things within, one of which was a large machine she had been pushed onto.

It took a few moments for Yolanda to understand what it was. She herself lay in a bowl-shaped depression; With some maneuvering, she saw a large lever connected to several moveable machine parts, all of which it seemed connected to another bowl-shaped metal part above her.

Yolanda startled. _Juiced._ The goddess was going to crush her until the juice came out.

When the goddess began moving the lever, Yolanda flailed again, frantic and pleading noises leaving her as the machine closed in. What had she ever done which deserved this? The harvest goddess everyone worshipped could not be so cruel.

“Relax dear,” the goddess called. “It won’t hurt you.”

Yolanda scoffed as best she could, but considering her attempts at moving only made her juice slosh around, she decided to hold still and face it with dignity.

Metal touched her soon enough, the slight chill making her shiver. It pushed on her stomach, slowly and deliberately pressing into her taut belly. Yolanda groaned at the pressure; Juice moved away from the machine part to begin pooling farther away in her body. She felt parts of her stretch as the juice pushed at her from the inside, elongating her side, and ass, and making her cheeks puff up more.

The pressure built and built, Yolanda moaning at the way she felt herself being both crushed and stretched, until finally--finally!--she felt a release.

Juice began pouring out from her in places which made her once again flush from embarrassment. But that wasn’t the only reason she was suddenly hot.

It made sense that the only holes she naturally had would be where the juice would exit. And so, Yolanda felt the juice escaping in a way which made it feel like she was expelling waste and having an orgasm all at once. The relief of the lowering pressure was almost familiar, as though she had been holding it within her for too long and had finally found a private moment to be rid of it. Yet she had never felt that relief at the same time she had found pleasure with herself, and the confusing feelings twined together, making her mind twist and churn.

As juice both pooled from her and drained out below--through little holes in the floor she assumed--Yolanda sighed, loud and long.

It was over then. The pleasure she felt would end, and perhaps the goddess would then send her back to her home. The punishment had been an odd one, but effective in making her never want to cross the harvest goddess again. Perhaps to never see a blueberry again, either.

Her body shrank with the draining juice, her arms and legs coming back into view and her middle pressing back into a moveable shape. A few minutes later, the machine stopped, Yolanda lying beneath simply taking deep, calming breaths.

As the machine rose back up, the goddess stepped up to the little indent in the floor. “Well, how are you feeling now?”

Yolanda blinked and sat up. Her muscles felt almost too relaxed, as though she had just woken up and not yet gained full control over her limbs. She did manage to get to her feet though, and noticed not everything in her body was back to normal.

For one thing, her skin was still blue. Though it wasn’t the deep indigo of before, it was obviously a clear, cerulean blue which, even when rubbed, could not be removed. She tried.

She felt she ought to be more concerned about it, but after everything, she found it a small problem. The villagers would know why she had changed the way she did, especially since she had told several of her prayers.

She also recognized that her clothes, somehow, were not completely destroyed, and actually hung onto her body. There were still some popped seams, but those were easily closed with a little time and effort, and she wouldn’t need extra material. And she might have if the juice which had run out of her had stained her clothes, but apparently it had not. For that, she was thankful.

But there was something else which Yolanda noticed. The emptiness was gone.

Alongside her body’s strife with food, she had always felt a large, yawning, painful emptiness in her stomach. Probably from how little she managed to choke down on a day-to-day basis. And so, she had grown used to it. Not liked or enjoyed it, but came to think it would be with her through her entire life.

Yet, it was gone. In its place, a gentle feeling had settled. It was as though her stomach was not empty, but still retained something within it--in fact, it felt as though the comfortable filling sensation came from leftover juice.

It was subtle, but Yolanda thought she could feel just the slightest hint of juice sloshing around within her. She looked up at the goddess, hand protectively wrapped around her middle.

“What did you do to me?”

“That’s a fine way to answer my question.” The goddess sighed. “I’ll assume you feel alright, since you haven’t complained about anything. If you’re wondering about any lingering effects--”

“Yes.” Yolanda flushed at the goddess’s raised eyebrow. She hadn’t meant to interrupt, but continued to speak anyway. “Just, not the blue skin. I think I understand that. But- but my stomach, it feels, um… Strange.”

“Better?”

Yolanda hesitated before nodding her head.

“Wonderful! I was hoping so.” The goddess’s smile grew wider and her eyes crinkled under the force. “I wish you to be aware that your punishment is already over. It has been since the transformation ceased. I wasn’t too terribly upset about your actions, though your temper and the self-loathing you project onto others could use some work. But I _am_ the goddess of harvest here, and you did come to me for help with a food related problem.”

At Yolanda’s face scrunching up in frustration, the goddess let out a small sigh. “I wished to help,” she said, “but issues like this usually take some time. Especially since moving magic into the humans’ world is hard enough. But I am also quite busy during the time of harvest.”

“I… see.”

“So that feeling you mentioned, it should help.”

Yolanda blinked, surprise and hope mixing in her chest, making her heart flutter. “It will? When I eat-?”

“Of course. It was far easier here, and working it into the punishment’s effects certainly helped. I’m not above offering solutions when I can. I will have to ask you to stop showing such disregard for my temples and the offerings people place there, though.”

Yolanda nodded, feeling like her head might shake off her shoulders with the speed at which she did so. She rubbed gentle hands over her stomach, enjoying the feeling of soft ripples inside.

“Yes,” she agreed, “yes of course, I understand.”

“Then we are finished.” The goddess made a grand gesture, displaying the lovely embroidery on her robes once more as she said, “Good bye, Yolanda. And may good fortune follow your good efforts.”

Then the world went dizzyingly fuzzy around Yolanda; So much so she had to close her eyes and firm her stance.

When the sound of wind died down, she looked around her. It was the temple. Unfortunately, it was exactly as she’d left it. Scattered produce surrounded her, and she was ashamed to see the new scratches and bruises on the ones fallen to the floor.

With a pat to her stomach and a pleased flutter in response, Yolanda made up her mind. She began to clean up the mess she’d made.

It wouldn’t be the same, but she felt it was the least she could do to make up for her rash actions. After all, she mused, glancing at her blue hands, she had gained more than she’d lost. It was only right she share her happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> Just in time for American Thanksgiving, amiright? Thanks for coming in to read this weird little fic in my weird little universe. Everyone, be kind to yourselves, and stay safe.
> 
> Here are some links for help and support:  
> [Eating Disorder Referral and Information Center (US)](https://www.edreferral.com/treatment)  
> [Reach Out support services (Australia)](https://au.reachout.com/articles/support-services-for-eating-disorders)  
> [National Eating Disorders Association (US)](https://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/help-support)  
> And there are more out there, just a google away.
> 
> I may not know you, but I care for you.


End file.
